


The Inheritance

by missdibley



Series: The Red Veil [1]
Category: Crimson Peak (2015), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Allerdale Hall, Angst, Crimson Peak, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Ghosts, Gothic, Gothic Romance, Romance, Smut, ghost story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:53:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missdibley/pseuds/missdibley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Nodding, I brushed my hand against his leg, and again I felt him. As I ran my fingers up his thigh, his muscles stiffened. When my hand reached his hip, he took it in his and raised it to his lips. Thomas kissed the back of my hand, and I released a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. I could feel his breath when he kissed the tips of my fingers, and again when I leaned in and kissed him.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd!

_The fire crackling merrily on the hearth had been going for hours. It was warm enough in the cabin that I was comfortable wearing just a nightgown. I lay in bed, enjoying the feeling of the cool, crisp white sheets under my feet._

_“That should do it.”_

_The handsome man came to bed after throwing another log onto the fire, removing his trousers before joining me under the covers. He lay on his side, still wearing an undershirt and a pair of long underwear, a shy smile on his face. I pushed a jet back curl off his forehead and looked into his pale blue eyes._

_“Are you warm enough, darling?” He took my hand in his, tutting as he ran his thumb over my knuckles. “Your hands are so cold.”_

_“They’ll warm up soon, I’m sure.” I whispered. “But just in case, maybe you should…”_

_He interrupted me with a kiss, sighing as he pressed his lips against mine. When I moaned, he gently pushed me onto my back, rolling himself so he hovered above me. I placed my hands on his hips and pulled him down, parting my legs so he could lay comfortably between them. Running his fingers through my hair, he nipped at my bottom lip and laughed softly._

_It was all too delicious. The way he gasped my name between kisses. The weight of him on top of me, his back warm and muscled to the touch of my hands, which ran up and down his body. How hard he was as he lay between my legs. My nightgown worked itself up my body as we moved together._

_“Are you sure?”_

_I looked up to find him peering at me, his eyes dark with want. Moving my hands up to the nape of his neck, I pulled him in for another kiss. I swiped my tongue at the corner of his mouth, chuckling when his lips parted and I could deepen the kiss. He tasted faintly of smoke, and of iron._

_“Yes, oh God, yes.” I pressed my lips to the scar just below his left eye. “It’s been so long since I’ve… and since you’ve…”_

_He nuzzled my cheek. “Yes. It has.”_

_I shivered, then rested my hands on my face. “Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?”_

_“Yes. I do.”_

“Aure!”

“What?! What’s going on? Where are we?”

I opened my eyes, blinking slowly as I found myself curled up in the passenger seat of a compact car. A sheaf of car hire paperwork was tucked into the visor in front of me, along with a folded map of England. The sun was setting but it was impossible to miss the rusted gate, and the ruins of a mansion, so dark and foreboding, that lay about a half mile beyond. I turned to look at my fiancé Ted, who sat in the driver’s seat drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He smiled at me, his brown eyes bright below a shock of deep red hair.

“Honey! Look where we are. Allerdale Hall!”

We had driven up to Cumbria from London, where Ted and I lived when he wasn’t traveling the world in an attempt to find fame in the competitive world of professional ghostbusting.

Really.

I had no idea that this was a dream of his when we first met three years earlier in business school. But as soon as we graduated, and he came into the money willed to him by his late grandfather, Ted and I began to hunt. All over Europe and parts of North America. I didn’t mind it so much as I loved to travel, and I could see a few close friends whenever we happened to have extended layovers in New York City.

I explored the entrance hall, using Ted’s flashlight to get a better look at the remains of the murals that decorated what was left of the walls. A large, winding staircase hinted at the grandeur of the past, while the rotting wood of the floorboards beneath me kept me in its disheveled present.

“Isn’t this great?” Ted spun around the atrium and grinned.

“Sure, if you like mold, and mud.” I wrinkled my nose as I peeked around a doorway into a dirty kitchen, it’s overturned table and broken chairs covered with cobwebs.

“Oh, it’s just a little damp. That’s all.” Ted took me back into the entrance hall and pointed to a spot at the bottom stairs. “We’ll pitch the tent there.”

“Do you think we should? I mean, we got that room in town and all.”

“Oh, honey,” he pleaded. “We’re all alone up here. Nobody to chase us out, or tell the police to send us away.” He smirked. “Besides, haven’t you ever wanted to shag in a haunted mansion?”

“Not really, no.” I looked up, finding the darkening sky through the holes in the ceiling. “We’re going to catch our death here.”

“We won’t. But, if you want to go, I’ll rough it. But help me set up? I’ll spend the night here, and hike down in the morning for breakfast.”

I reached out and touched Ted’s sweet face. “Alright. But why don’t I drive back up for you in the morning? I’ll help you pack everything up, and we can get something to eat before we drive home.”

He nodded. “Of course, honey. Of course.”

Ted checked his instruments while I made sure the tent wouldn’t collapse, and that his sleeping bag was dry. As I put down a cooler full of food and bottled water, I noticed something poking out of the ground. I dug in the soft, red earth, catching a heavy ring around the tip of my index finger. When Ted came out of Allerdale to hug me goodbye, I shoved it in my coat pocket, not telling him about it before I drove away.

* * *

The room Ted and I had booked was in the old post office, which operated now as a small museum and gift shop with a few rooms to book. According to the clerk, the area saw few visitors at this time of year, when it wasn’t yet cold enough for snow. When it did snow, it would turn blood red as it absorbed the color of the clay underneath it. This attracted photographers and, of course, people who heard the stories about Crimson Peak and the Sharpes.

I was startled and yet somehow not surprised that the room resembled the one in my dream. A bed made up with crisp white sheets, that was common enough, but there was a fireplace that was already lit. I threw a small log on, smiling at that sparks that flew up, then drew myself a bath.

In the tub, I thought of Ted. He was sweet and kind, pretty normal discounting his obsession with ghosts. His family were decent, down to earth despite their fabulous wealth. I had thought of telling them about my family’s history once Ted and I were engaged but decided to keep it to myself. I was worried that his parents wouldn’t understand, and that his obsession with the paranormal would intrude further into our relationship than it already had.

I didn’t want Ted to suspect that I had more than a passing interest, a real connection to Allerdale. At least, not until after we were gone, back in London with Allerdale behind us. I didn’t press him to come here sooner because I sensed, somehow, that he would bring me there. He had to. I was never brave enough to venture here on my own. And while I had questions that only Crimson Peak could answer, I was still afraid. Which was why I was in the cabin, and not in that tent with Ted.

The air was so warm that after my bath I walked around naked, air drying myself while I got ready for bed. I combed my hair and looked at my face in the full length mirror that hung on the bathroom door. Brown eyes, black hair that fell around my shoulders. Thin eyebrows and no eyelashes to speak of, as I’d washed off my makeup after my bath. Small, plump lips and chubby cheeks. Breasts not as full as I wished, and hips that were just a little too full. I placed my hands on my soft stomach and squeezed gently, laughing at how silly I was. I had my mother’s “exotic” looks (laughable considering she was born in New Jersey, not Okinawa where her parents were from) and the soft, round body of my father’s mother, my beloved grandmother, who was born and raised in the Hudson Valley of upstate New York.

After shrugging into the nightgown, which was so sheer I may as well have been wearing nothing at all, I crawled into bed and took up the ring I had found in the earth so I examine it. It was beautiful, the ring. Not my style, with its huge ruby cabochon, but I was entranced. The light I saw in that great jewel did not sparkle so much as burn. Nana’s second-hand description did not do it justice.

My eyelids felt heavy, and began to flutter shut the longer I lay there. I still clutched the ring in my hand, though, only dropping it when I heard a knock at the door. It wasn’t terribly late, and I remembered the clerk saying something about bringing up some pudding if she could find it. Imagining a rock cake, perhaps, or a slice of pie, I got out of bed, scooping up the ring in my hand and wrapping myself in a shawl I found on a hook before I answered the door.

It was not the clerk in the hall but the handsome man from my dream. He stood before me, carrying a top hat in his hands. His black coat was dusted with a fine layer of red dust. His blue eyes were sad, yet bright in the firelight.

“Thomas,” I whispered as his name came to my mind, and to my heart.

“Aure.” He said my name gently.

“How did you know my name?”

“How did you know mine?” I retorted with a small laugh.

“A gentleman has his secrets.”

“As does a lady.” I bit my lip. “Come in, please.”

I stood aside, watching him walk to the fireplace. I closed the door, then sat on the couch in front of the fire.

“I’ve seen you before.”

He smiled. “When? Where?”

“Earlier today. In my dream.” I looked around the room. “We were in here.”

He followed my gaze. “I… I spent the night here once. With someone I loved very much.”

“Who was she?”

“My… my fourth wife. But only my first love.”

I got up and walked to Thomas. I showed him the ring.

“Was this hers?”

Thomas nodded. “It was. Once.”

“So is it true?”

“Is what true?” He opened his eyes and looked at me so forlornly I wanted to take him in my arms.

“The stories. You and your sister. What happened to your mother. The wives. The poison. Edith.”

“Yes. All of it.”

“Did you love Edith?”

“I did. I saved her. Or I tried to.”

“Do you know what happened to her?”

He frowned. “I do not.”

“Would you like to know?”

A look of alarm made his eyes widen. “How…”

“Thomas. Sir Thomas Sharpe.” I took his hand and shook it.

“My name, as you know, is Aure. Frankly, I’m surprised you don’t already…” I shivered. “Never mind.”

“Who are you? Or rather, who are you to me?” Thomas leaned in closer, running his eyes over my face.

“My name is Aure Edith Saverin. Aure after the breeze, the wind, in its divine form. And Edith, so named for your fourth and last wife, and my great-grandmother, Edith Cushing Sharpe McMichael.”

He stumbled back, grabbing the mantel. When I reached out to grab his arm, my hand passed through him. I felt a chill but it wasn’t fear. I didn’t know precisely what I was feeling at that moment. I only knew that I had no reason to be afraid.

I took up my seat again, waiting for Thomas to join me on the couch. I kept the ring in my open palm, holding it just so. He didn’t take his eyes off it as I spoke.

“I never met Edith. She died long before I was born. Her daughter May, my grandmother, was her youngest child. Nana told me everything she knew about Edith. About you and Lucille, and Crimson Peak. She did so quietly, as it was too painful for her father, Alan, to remember the danger that she, that the two of you, were in, and how close he came to losing her.”

“Alan was a good man.” Thomas gave me a timid smile.

“That’s what I have heard. My father was named after him, and he was a wonderful papa. I lost him just last year.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” I swallowed, then looked down at the ring.

“Nana said that Edith was in love with you, despite herself, until the day she died. She loved her husband, of course, but…” I shook my head. “Not like she loved you.”

“Why are you here?” Thomas shook his head. “I don’t mean to sound so… was there something I could do for you?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Nana told me that ghosts were real. And I believed her, because Edith told her. Edith saw them. But I never did. And I always wondered why.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know how to answer that.”

“I didn’t think so. I’m not even sure how I can see you now, but I suspect that being here has something to do with it.”

“Quite so. And I’m glad of it,” replied Thomas.

I blushed. “Do you see… is Lucille’s ghost… is she here?” I looked at the ring. “This is hers, isn’t it?”

“It was. Passed from my mother, to Lucille, then to Edith. And then Lucille took it back before…”

“Before she killed you.”

“Yes.” Thomas shut his eyes. “And then she died.”

“Because Edith killed her. She had to.”

“Yes. I know.”

He took a deep breath, and I wanted to laugh. Why would a ghost need to take a deep breath?

I nodded. “I guess the reason I’m here is to say, once more, that Edith never stopped loving you.”

“You didn’t have to come here to tell me that,” Thomas said kindly. I returned his smile when he smiled at me.

“Of course. But it’s nice to hear, isn’t it? Even if it’s 100 years after the fact.”

“Has it been 100 years? I hadn’t noticed?” Thomas chuckled with me. “Time doesn’t mean much in my, erm, state.”

I looked at the ring in my palm. “Why was this in the dirt at Allerdale?”

“I’m not certain. Despite her crimes, despite our crimes, Lucille was buried in the family cemetery. It should have gone in with her.”

“Should I return it?” I looked up to find a stricken look on Thomas’s face. “It’s just… I think it’s what Edith would have done.”

“I think you are right.” Thomas looked at me. “But before you do…”

“Oh, I shouldn’t. Try it on, I mean. That’s what you were going to say, right?”

He nodded. “But why not? It belonged to your great-grandmother once. As she was my last wife, and therefore a Sharpe, I would say you have as much claim to it as Lucille would.”

“Do you think Lucille would agree?” I smiled when Thomas laughed.

“What Lucille doesn’t know…”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Afraid of Lucille?” Thomas looked serious. “Perhaps. But when it comes time to return the ring, I’ll be there with you. I’ll help you.”

“Alright.” I whispered. “I’ll do it.”

I set the ring down on my thigh, balancing it carefully while I removed my own engagement ring and placed it on the ottoman. The ruby ring, the Sharpe ring, slid onto my ring finger easily. I held my hand out so Thomas could see it.

“Beautiful,” he murmured. He looked up at me, and I blinked.

“It really is,” I sighed, looking at the way his eyes sparkled. When I set my hand down between us, it brushed against his leg. He looked at me with alarm.

“Did you feel that?” He looked down at my hand. “Could you…?”

Nodding, I brushed my hand against his leg, and again I felt him. As I ran my fingers up his thigh, his muscles stiffened. When my hand reached his hip, he took it in his and raised it to his lips. Thomas kissed the back of my hand, and I released a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. I could feel his breath when he kissed the tips of my fingers, and again when I leaned in and kissed him.

I didn’t resist when he pushed me back, instead shifting to make him more comfortable as he pressed his body to mine. I pushed his coat off, slowly easing my hands down his broad shoulders until I settled them on his lower back. All the while, his lips were warm and soft, tender as they kissed me sweetly. When I felt him, when I felt how hard he was, he drew his head back.

“I’m sorry,” Thomas stammered.

“Don’t be,” I murmured as I rolled my hips into him.

“But your fiancé, surely…”

“Yes,” I sighed. “Yes.” I tried to picture Ted’s face, so open and warm. But all I could see was Thomas looking at me, a desire in his eyes that I had never seen in Ted. Not once in all the years I had known him. I knew Ted loved me, and that I loved him. But I wanted Thomas. And he wanted me.

So I had him. I took him. I wrapped my legs around him, then tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck. When he turned his face to the side to kiss my ear, I nipped at his jaw, and he growled.

Thomas pushed himself up, waiting until he was standing up before he helped me to my feet. I took him by the hand and lead him to the bed, where I sat on the edge. My hands settled on his hips while I looked up at him. I kept looking at his face as I unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his trousers, and slid my hand inside. He was already hard, and he felt so good. His cock was velvety and warm and so big, so I kissed it as soon as could.

“Oh god. Oh Aure.” Thomas sounded almost relieved as my mouth closed around him. I swirled my tongue around the head, flicking my tongue at the slit while my hands attended to the shaft of his cock, and to his balls. I took him into my mouth again, moaning as I did.

When I looked up, his face was still angelic even as it contorted with pleasure. I closed my eyes and relaxed my jaw, thrilled at how much I loved the feeling of him in my mouth and the taste of him on my tongue. I kept stroking him even as I continued to suck, and his hips bucked slightly. I groaned when he bucked again, harder this time. It was then that he withdrew from me, using his hands to push me back gently at the shoulder.

I fell back on the bed with a giggle, watching as he removed his clothes. He knelt on the floor, propped my legs up on his shoulders after he pushed up my nightgown, and kissed my sex. I arched my back when I felt his lips close around my clit as he began to suck.

“Ah!” I cried out as his tongue traced up and down my folds, then pushed inside to taste the juices I could feel soaking my cunt and my inner thighs. He spread my legs wider, holding them apart with his large hands so he could lick and suck. It felt so good, almost too good, and when I jerked in response, Thomas began to suck on my clit while he moved one of his hands to my sex, so he could slide two fingers inside me. When I brushed my hard nipples with my fingers, that triggered a climax that shook me so hard I nearly slid off the bed. Thomas would give me no relief, however, continuing to suck and lick at my clit as my release shuddered through my body.

He looked up at me, a gleam in his eye as he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He helped me scoot up the bed, smiling at me wickedly as he leaned over and ripped the front of my nightgown in half. He crawled on top of me, hovering as he kissed me. His tongue in my mouth, tasting of blood and iron and salt, and I wanted to devour him. Thomas moved my hands to his ass, so I held on when he sat back on his knees before he pulled into him.

“Oh yes! Thomas, yes!” He entered me, slowly at first. When he was seated within, he pulled out and then began to wind his hips as he continued to thrust. Back and forth, up and down. I was dizzy, and I wouldn’t have known where I was had we not been looking into each other’s eyes. His were dark and hungry, lustful and almost wicked, and I could not get enough of him. They darted down to my bare breasts, and he licked his lips.

I kissed Thomas hard, and he slowly rolled us over so that I straddled him. I held onto the headboard, keeping my eyes on his angelic face while I began to ride. He captured one breast in his mouth, sucking hard on the nipple, before switching to the other.

“Just like that. Oh yes, Thomas, yes!” I laughed, that’s how good it felt, squealing with delight when he spanked my ass playfully.

“Are you almost there, darling?” Thomas struggled to speak as I moved faster, bucked harder. “You feel so good. So fucking good.”

“God yes, Thomas. You feel… oh god, so big. I want to… I’m going to…”

Thomas slid a hand between us, finding my clit with his fingers. He circled it, increasing the speed as I continued to fuck him, faster and stronger, until at last I came. And when I did, I felt him come in me, sighing my name, calling to me so that I slumped onto his chest. He was able to press soft kisses to my brow as a gesture of gratitude, certainly, and perhaps in a show of some kind of love. I pressed my ear to his chest, laughing softly when I felt his heart beating wildly. I moved his hand there so he could feel it for himself.

We lay there for a while, how long I did not know, touching each other. I let Thomas touch me everywhere, for as long as he desired. We had sex again, this time making love slowly and carefully so he could have one more good memory to take with him. Who knew how long this privilege of a physical body that could breathe and kiss and touch and fuck would be afforded him. Eventually, though, it was time to return to Crimson Peak, and to bring Thomas home.

I got dressed quickly, chuckling when I noticed him looking away to give me some privacy. I kept the ring on, holding Thomas’s hand as we walked to the car under the light of the moon. I felt guilty as I only checked my phone for a call or a message from Ted once we got into the car. But there was nothing. The drive back to Crimson Peak was brief. There was nobody else out, no signs of life. Just me, and him.

Thomas sat in the passenger seat, holding my hand as I drove. Whenever I looked at him, he was looking at how our fingers intertwined. I felt him kissing my hand many times, every kiss feeling as soft and as delicate as a butterfly wing against my cheek. When we pulled up to the mansion, he dashed out and ran around to my side, opening the door so he could offer me his arm.

I smiled up at him. “Once a gentleman, always a gentleman. In life and in…” I peered up at him. “The after-life.”

“Yes, darling,” he murmured. I stood up on my toes and kissed him. He took my hand in his, and we walked in together.

Using the flashlight on my phone, I found Ted’s tent where I’d left it. But he was nowhere to be found. The sleeping bag didn’t look disturbed, and his set-up was immaculate, as though he’d simply disappeared after I’d left. I released Thomas’s hand and started up the stairs. That’s when I heard her.

“You have something of mine, young Edith.”

I felt a chill on the back of my neck. That voice. So calm, and yet it filled me with dread. When I turned around, there she was. Lucille. Her ghost was sinewy, black and skeletal, and dressed in the remains of a formal gown with a full skirt. Hands that were nothing more than bone fluttered as though she were playing a piano. Her face was beautiful, bright blue eyes in a face that lit up when the moonlight shone through it. I moved towards her, entranced by her beauty but also aware that if I tried, I couldn’t run away.

“Where is he?” I looked around, but I didn’t see Ted anywhere.

“Young Theodore? Your intended?” When I nodded, Lucille smiled. “We had a nice chat after you left him here.”

“Is he dead?”

Lucille shook her head. “He’s upstairs, asleep in Mother’s bed. I thought it prudent to keep him alive while I waited for you to come back with my ring.”

“And now that you have it?” I slid the ring off my finger and held it up so that Lucille could see it. Behind her, Thomas looked at me. There was concern in his eyes.

Lucille floated forward and brushed my hand with hers. I felt cold when she did, but was otherwise unaffected. “He will awaken, and the two of you will leave, never to come back.”

“What about Thomas?” The words were out of my mouth before I could think.

“What about him?” Lucille turned to look at her brother. “What do you care?”

“Is he free to go? When I give back the ring, will you be at peace?”

“I will. Once the ring is back in my possession, by which I mean buried with me, Thomas and I will be tied to this place, and to each other, forever.”

“Meaning that his spirit can never leave this place?” As I spoke, I felt the air get colder around me, and the ground seemed to groan under my feet.

Lucille scoffed. “We Sharpes are meant to be here forever.”

I looked at Thomas, then shook my head. “Maybe you are, but not him.” I took a step back, finding the banister behind me with my free hand.

“I came here because Edith lived here. Loved here.” I straightened up when Lucille hissed. “I came to apologize to Thomas, to remind him of how Edith loved him, even until death. And now, having done those things, I understand there was something else. I have…” I closed my eyes. “I have to set him free.”

“Girl, I told you. Give me the ring, and Theodore is free to go.”

“I’m not talking about Ted.”

I turned around, feeling around my feet for something, anything heavy. Lucille screeching behind me, I panicked for a second before finding a red brick, bright and heavy. I set the ring down on the newel post, raised the brick, and brought it down as hard and as fast as I could.

* * *

The next morning, I watched Ted come to, stumble down the winding staircase, and find my body at the bottom. I saw him try to revive me, administer CPR, warm me up, while he called for help on his phone. He fainted when the ambulance arrived, and the medics told him that there was nothing. No response, no heartbeat, no life. A constable helped him into the ambulance which headed to the coroner’s office instead of the hospital.

A week later, I saw a newspaper at the post office. The story on the front page explained how Ted and I had come to Crimson Peak to hunt for ghosts, how I had died of fright or exposure or an undiagnosed heart condition. The clerk gave a statement saying that I behaved normally, and appeared healthy. Ted had no comment, not even after the reporter informed him that I had been descended from Edith Cushing Sharpe McMichael.

As I was an only child, with no living relatives (my mother having predeceased my father when I was in college), my possessions and what money I had went to Ted, who promptly donated everything to charity.

I haven’t seen or felt Lucille’s ghost since that night. There are still two ghosts at Allerdale, though. Thomas’s, and mine.

Once the ring was destroyed, and Lucille disappeared with it, Allerdale appeared to us as it was supposed to have been. We had a strong foundation of concrete and stone, engineered so that red clay did not seep up into the house, which kept the house upright and steady. A whole, intact roof to shelter and thick walls to protect from the howling winds. Doors that swung open freely with the sun, and closed securely at night.

The house still breathes, but it also sings. I can hear echoes of Lucille’s piano some days, and at night lullabies from the nursery. Water runs clear through the pipes, and the windows always sparkle as the light floods the house. Dark corners are warm and cozy, and hold no secrets.

The perfectly made bed in the master bedroom squeaks whenever Thomas and I couple. I thought we needed the ring to do that, to be together that way.

I was wrong.

There is life in this house. There is love, real love that feels good and true, a love that came first from passion and then from intimacy. We had all the time in the world to plant those seeds, nurture them, and watch them grow.

Never mind that it exists between two people who are no longer of this life. We may have been nought but spirits, but we were kindred spirits, and that has made all the difference.


End file.
